Tomorrow Funnyordie.com will be featuring this clip on their front page. It’s the first of 15 commercials we shooting for Lickmycards.com that are going to be exclusively released to Funnyordie.com. They’re all pretty fucked up, but hey, so is our site. Feel free to repost away. And give it a “funny” vote for fuck’s sake. This shit isn't easy to make happen.




And no, I don't really hate Teddy.

We've added a new feature to the site. Upload pictures and captions to go with it. One of our monkeys will take it and make you a lickmycards.com ecard. Go here to make it happen:

http://www.lickmycards.com/submit.php

Here's an example:

You give us this:




We do this:





And you get this:

I was in the car with my mom a couple months back. She was giving me a ride to work because a week earlier I had wrapped my car around a light pole, a tree and a parked car in one fluid swoop. All three of these objects slammed into the driver’s side door at about 40 miles per hour. Had it not been for the side impact air bags I would without a doubt be dead. I walked away for the accident without even a bruise. I had yet to talk to anyone about how this makes me feel or really tell anyone how bad it actually was. My family doesn’t have these kinds of discussions. This car ride with my mom wouldn’t be any different, but would probably be the closest to it ever happening.  After telling her about things going on at work, she looks at me and says, “Of all my children, I worry the most about you.”   What she meant, but failed miserably at verbalizing was that I don’t have the capacity to connect with people, that all I am is what I do. This wasn’t the eye opening motherly advice that I had been waiting for. It was almost insulting that she thought I wasn’t self-aware enough to realize this. A couple months went by before last night she once again felt that she should point out that I was different and that was why my life is a collection of epic failures.  I want to say it was sad to think that this is what she thought of me, but it wasn’t. If anything it was confirmation of how distant I am from even the people who should know me best. I’m a child who’s yet to adhere to the expectations of what it means to be a part of society. The status quo is something I’m not capable of being. You either get me and get what I’m about or this is not for you. There is no grey area and there is no room for misinterpreting my intentions. I know my strengths and I understand my weaknesses.  I am fully aware and have no plans on improving upon my foundation. What follows I wrote almost a year ago, but felt was appropriate under the assumption that I am oblivious to my being.

I spend a lot of my time bragging and talking highly of myself. I don’t do this knowingly, but I do. It’s compensation, motivation and an overall need to be liked and validated. I have a hard time liking myself and need others to do it for me. I’m proud of myself and my accomplishments, but I don’t like me. I’m at odds with the person I am and I do things to see to it that I’m in a constant state of discomfort. Peace of mind is such a stranger to me that I panic when we cross paths. There’s always a bruise, rug burn, sore joint or cut somewhere to be found on me. Every single day for the last 8 years I have broken or bent a law in one way or another. I’m in a constant state of half awake from rarely sleeping. By the end of the day everything that has passed seems like a different lifetime. I pull from the parts of my life that I excel at to soften the blows of the parts that are beyond my control. I focus on the things I can mould to feel as if I am in control when in reality I am anything but. I’m extremely sensitive and take thing to heart way more than I should. Mix that with my obsessive personality, my overwhelming need to comprehend and my second nature tendency to reverse engineer every thought to its meaning and you can start to grasp why I’m such a mess. Even as a kid, things seemed to affect me much more than it did my brothers and sisters.  Solitude in a family of 11 seems impossible, but I achieved this by being different. This is why I’m detached, practice. I don’t like people getting close enough that they can accurately judge me. I find being a complete asshole to people usually does the trick. A bad first impression allows everything that follows to be positive by comparison. When given the option of hoping for the best or planning for the worst, I know that planning is something I can do. I prefer expressing myself through forums that I need not care about. I would rather be a passing thought than the subject of a conversation. When it comes down to it, there are a lot of things that could be said about the things I’ve done. I try to be a reflection of what I do, not of who I am. I am the byproduct of my failures, not my successes. If something works, great. If it doesn’t, I have to know why and it becomes my obsession until I do. People at work are more often than not impressed with some of the stuff that I pull out of my hat. Occasionally I am told that I have big things coming my way because of this proverbial hat. In a way this makes me sick. My biggest flaw in life is what pushes me to conjure what most see as my greatest strength. They see the end product. They don’t see the hours of time I spend fixate on the details that don’t matter so I won’t have to think about the girlfriend that left. They don’t know that I came up with the idea after getting the shit kicked out of me because I don’t know how to process how I feel about my parents’ separation. They don’t see that my epiphanies come to me when I’m laying on my couch awake at 4 in the morning. They see the end product, not how consumed in my thought I’ve become to satisfy my crippling obsessions. They don’t know that I have a phobia of leaving the house or of being around groups of people when in this state of mind.  They see my ability to organize and streamline a process; yet don’t realize that I’m anything but. I always have 40 projects going on and my desk is always a mess. Hard drives filled with projects and ideas that grew and evolved into others.  Each a can of worms and an opportunity not to be a failure in my own mind.

A couple weeks ago I gave you people the user name and password to revenge mail on youllruetheyday.com. For those of you who used it, I’m ashamed of you. A week or five went by before I remembered that I had done this and realized I didn’t change the password after the fact. In fact I removed the password all together because it limited usage of the site to 60 people logged in at a time. Today I took a look at the database that holds the emails that went out. I was surprised to find that over 10,000 emails have been sent since I posted that info. I have to admit I’m a little worried about the repercussions I might have to deal with as a result of this. After the initial freak out and the pursuing pacing, I started reading some of the messages that were sent out. I had a good laugh at how you guys decided to use this newfound anonymity.  I’ve decided to share the ones that made me laugh. I only got through the first 100, so expect a couple more of these posted in the coming days.


TO:
k*******s@hotmail.com

FROM:
god@heaven.com

SUBJECT:
Re: your sins

MESSAGE:
Dear T******s H***y K********r,

I am writing you an email, (keeping up with new technology) to let you know, that homosexuality is infact a sin.

therefore, even though jabin up the poo hole feels good to you, its sending you to hell.

i'm simply warning you, that being a homosexual, is infact a bad thing.

please expect an email from Satan, in regards to his taking over of your soul.

with great sadness.
- GOD.




TO:
S*******@yahoo.com

FROM:
F. Deluca

SUBJECT:
FYI

MESSAGE:
I hear you're horrible at your job and are getting fired.





TO:
Kevin

FROM:
Kevin

SUBJECT:
Please read on January 5, 2009

MESSAGE:
Kevin,

This is your future self.  I know it's hard to believe, but here we are.  I have discovered time manipulation through the power of physics... in my off time actually because we’re actually a successful doctor now.  Congrats I guess!  

I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm back teaching at ******* University because I really believe this is where the next breakthrough is coming from.  You probably don't believe it to be true now, but it's going to be huge.  

You do well for yourself in the next few years (ten to be exact, it's 2019 when I'm sending this) but don't let success blind you from what's really important.  You will meet someone in the next two months that will change your life forever... please don't let her go.  I will explain more if I can in time (that's a funny phrase now!)

Take care in this next year.  I must be off but hopefully we'll talk soon.

-Kevin
February 22, 2019



TO:
***** Lopez
FROM:
Administration@M*****HighSchool.com

SUBJECT:
Do Not Reply

MESSAGE:
Dear ****** Lopez,

   As the administration at M**** High School, it has come to our attention that your name is currently on a list of students, drafted by the teachers and staff of the school, who are as of now ineligible to walk in the graduation ceremony this June. Due to poor performance in your studies thus far your teachers feel that you have not successfully completed enough class work to receive your diploma on stage.

   It is not too late to act upon getting your name removed from this list as you have one more semester in your senior year to fulfill any requirements you may be lacking. There is a mandatory meeting which will be held in the cafeteria at M**** High School on Monday, January the 5th. This informational meeting requires a parent to attend and will answer any inquiries you may have regarding this issue.

The meeting will start at 9:30 am so it will be best to arrive 30 minutes early.

Mahalo.






TO:
******@yahoo.com

FROM:
*******@****.com

SUBJECT
Don’t Work Monday

MESSAGE:
I talked it over with Dave and you have Monday off. Get your golf clubs ready!




TO:
Toni_***@yahoo.com

FROM:
Sarah

SUBJECT:
Aunt Toni, I need to talk to you

MESSAGE:
I'm sorry to come at you like this out of the blue, but I only have your work Email because that's all that Ryan knew. I don't know who else to turn to, so I'm hoping you can at least offer some guidance. My period is more than a week late, and I've been too scared to take a pregnancy test.

Earlier tonight I broke down and took an EPT pregnancy test and it was positive. I am so scared Aunt Toni and I don't know what to do. there's only one person that I've had sex with in the last 3 or 4 months, and I don't know how he's going to react to being a father. We haven't really talked about it and he doesn't know yet..But the even bigger problem is that it's Dwayne, Ryan's friend who is the father. I know that him and Ryan have been friends for a while but I don't know that I can trust him to net tell Dwayne. Do you think that Ryan would tell him? Do you think Dwayne would leave me to raise the baby by myself? What do you think my mom is going to say if I have a half-Black son or daughter? Call me once you’re had a chance to think it over.

Sarah








I don't know how to feel about this. I think it just goes to prove my point that this site should never go live.

We live in a world of Zeros and Ones. Everything comes down to an ‘if this equals that, then do this, if not do that’. ‘When this is that, go here’. Arrays of databases that are compared to other databases to come up with a common and results thereof. statistics based on collected data. Everything is predictable and anything is possible. Pick a number between one and ten.

My obsession with code started in middle school when I designed a script that altered a computers network settings to allow me to access it remotely. Even through high school my teachers had no idea I had access to their records. It was amazing to me that a device that so many people used on a daily basis, very few actually knew the break down of how it worked. Even the simplest of task were unknown to many. Your number was seven.

It was after getting kicked out of high school, that I learned the power of the =if(x=y,yes,no) equation. Basically, it a comparison of two things. Depending on if they’re the same, they do one thing, if they’re not, they do another thing. Either of which could be another “if” equation. An infinite loop of “if” equations to confirm a query. My first real use of the “if” equation was when I designed a program for my family’s furniture factory. It started small, but constantly evolved into something more complex. By the time I was done it could keep track of the inventory in all the stores based on what was shipped out vs what sold, compared the sales to what was in stock and predict based on the time of year what should be built for future sales. I had a computer telling me what I would need a year ahead of time. During Thanksgiving tables and hutches sold. During back to school desks sold. The longer it ran, the more accurate it became. With 20 years of business under their belt, this program would be the first thing to ever give my parents an accurate account of their Mom and Pop company’s worth. It was in the millions. This would be the first and last time I ever used this knowledge for something perceivable as “good”.

I needed to know more, how could I implement this in different ways. I taught myself different coding languages by breaking down other people’s work. First it was html and action script, then java, php, pearl and so on. They’re all similar with subtle differences. All capable of different tasks, all with flaws and all with exploitable applications. I hacked myspace using an action script within a flash file that would change a person’s profile to read that their hero was “Michael Burke”. Everyone that visited their myspace would have it embed on their page and it rapidly paid it’s way forward. Within a month myspace started restricting embedding flash files. So I switched it over to linking to dummy sites that promoted fake news. For example if you go to http://www.abcnews.com@omeletto.com you don’t go to ABC news, you go to omeletto.  Everything before the @ symbol is a user login, everything after is the website you’re accessing. This technique would eventually be used to pirate people’s login information for myspace by duplicating the myspace login page and using this domain to trick them. I used this technique to pirate a list of user names and passwords for an ungodly amount profiles. I'm not going to give an exact number because I never used any of the harvested profile logins. Except for Dane Cook and Tila Tequila. They're both assholes and I felt something had to be done.

It was never about doing wrong, it was about knowing I could do it. There’s no greater drive for me than “can I do it and get away with it”. I hacked myspace, ebaumsworld, facebook and youtube by finding flaws in their design. I never went looking for the flaws, they typically just came to mind as "what if's" as I browsed their sites. Then I test the what if. I don’t have 15,000 friends on myspace because they added me, I have 15,000 friends because I created a code that automated them to add me. Think of a vegetable.

Then I learned about Mysql databases. These are online databases that store information. Every part of your myspace profile is stored in a dynamic Mysql database. Your name, comments, friends, everything. IMDB’s references are stored in these databases, too. They’re highly complicated and all intertwined with an user id number. There’s a database for all the movies, there’s a database for all the actors and then there’s a database for the relationship between the two. This amazed me, I had to understand what it was and more importantly how could I miss-use it. Information. Information is always good for miss-use. So I started up to compile websites to harvest information. I started a website that petitioned Family Guy being taken off the air. People had to give an email address, name and number. I start a website that petitioned Hollywood’s most popular monkey not getting a star on the walk of fame. Anti-abortion sites, stop global warming, free Tibet. Most recently I start a website that petitioned a remake of the Rock Horror Picture Show aka Save the Lips. In total I’ve collected over 400,000 email address, half of which I estimate are still working. Was it was a carrot? I love statistics.

For any of you that used www.youllruetheday.com’s revenge mail program that I posted two weeks ago, the email addresses you used have been harvested and added to the batch already in the database. But Mycoal, what do you do with close to half a million email addresses. This is where memetics comes into play.

I have an abundance of habits I could give up this year that I probably should for my own well being. Instead I'm going to do something that is better for society as a whole. I'm going to scrap the release of a website that will surely do harm to a fair amount of people's lives. I came up with an idea for this site when I was taking a stab at piggy backing off out of country servers to do my bidding. Combined with a little background in how PHP coding works, I was able to create a site that allows you to enter any email you want to send to and any email you want it to look like it came from. You fill out the message and hit the send button. Off it goes to a server in Egypt where it bounces back into the states to the unknowing recipient. It was live for three days before I took it down upon realizing how volatile of an idea it was. I used it to send emails from one of my bosses to the other and vise versa. In the email I made it look like each on of them thought they should fire me for my demeanor and chronic tardiness. I walked in as they were arguing about who sent who what and why. I used it to send message from god@heaven.com to random people in my address book telling them that every time they touched themselves an angel lost it's wings. I sent other people messages from themselves in the future. I was having an amazingly fun time with it before someone used it on me. I got an email from the authorities telling me they were going to come after me. I knew it came through the site because there was no way it could have been tracked back to me. It did however open my eyes to what it would be like on the other side if someone were to abuse it. So I made the decision to move it off the front page and password protected it, so only I had access. For the weekend it will be up there should any of you feel the need to cause a little trouble. As a safety precaution I have it tracking IP addresses, so I wouldn't recommend sending anything illegal like death threats. Here's the site and log in info, have fun:

www.youllruetheday.com/mail/
user name: Mycoal
password: pandora

This is Scot Nary, I was teamed up with him, the worlds most flexible man and a con artist named Chris Carney to produce a show about them going on the road. This is what he got me for my birthday

Every morning I wake up, brush my teeth, take a shower and get ready for the day. Pretty much every morning I glance at a painting of the last supper that leans again the wall by my closet. It's framed by a cheap gold molding and lines of scotch tape hold together the fragments from where I punched through Jesus. I've thought about hanging it, but felt that besides the fact that I'm not religious, hanging it would give it value that I don't feel it deserves. It's nothing more than a reminder of how short life can be.

December 23rd, 2007, my birthday, is the day I got it. It was 8 in the morning and I was parked on a sketchy side street in East Los Angeles. Every house had barred windows, spiked fencing and little to no grass on the lawns. I had been parked for the last half hour outside an apartment building waiting for a team of crime scene cleaners to show up. Their company was owned by a former cop who ran his crime scene cleaning business with his flamboyantly gay son. They had been featured on MTV and in several magazines because of the novelty of their company. I had been following them around for the last month to produce a presentation for my company.

As I sat in the car watching neighbors going about their business, it occurred to me that none of these people knew the horrific events that played out only a couple hundred feet from them. Everything I had been witness to up until this point were suicides and the occasional gang execution. Men typically hang or shoot themselves, while women prefer the more poetic cutting of the wrists. Decomposed bodies and brain matter were the worst. I had one double execution gang shooting where midway through the family showed up not knowing what had happened. Their daughters were dating the guys that had been shot and no one had heard from them since. Not even the police knew they lived in the house. Odd are they were kidnapped, dead or in hiding. I didn't really care either way. Part of the reason I was put on this presentation was my complete disconnect with emotion and attachment to any other human being. Seeing the pools of blood and hysterical loved ones didn't affect me. I was told that we needed to make this a comedy, so I did. I shot around the sad stuff and concentrated on the fact that these crime scene cleaners have seen so much of this that the only way to cope was to have a sense of humor about it. They joked and played around as if it was your run of the mill mom and pop company. One even made a snow angel in the blood.

Their white trucks pulled up in front of me and it was time to get to business. Today's shoot was at the house of man that went insane. He was a Lebanese immigrant that lived with his father and sister in a small one-bedroom apartment. He worked as a security guard. His entire place was decorated with crosses and pictures of Jesus. Everywhere you looked there were stacks of notebooks where he would write down the stuff crazy people write down. I flipped through one of them and it was like reading a twisted version of Harriet the Spy. I could feel the crazy immediately. One day he decided he had taken enough shit and did something about it. After shooting to death his sister and father, he chopped them up. There wasn't nearly as much blood as I thought there would be. Once the heart stops beating, the blood spillage is minimal. He cut them up in the bathtub and then loaded them into two different suitcases. He drove one to Fresno and the other to San Diego. He made sure not to leave any fingerprints or DNA that could be tracked back to him. Since the family was immigrants, finding out who they were would be next to impossible. He was very calculating in every step he took. The problem was that he was too illiterate to realize that he had left the luggage tags with his address on the suitcases. The cops knocked on his door and he made a run for it. He broke both legs jumping from his third story window. Idiot. In situations like this, the family usually gives the crime scene cleaners permission to toss or donate everything. They knew it was going to be our last day of shooting and they wanted to give me a gift. On the wall with a stream of blood splatter across it was the picture of the last supper. Ironically, it was the last thing they saw before getting a bullet pushed through their heads by their religious fanatic of a family member. I told them I wanted it. Not as a homage, not as a trophy, but as a reminder of how horrible life can be. I've seen and experienced some horrible things in my life, most of which I'll never talk about, some of which I blocked out. I've found that facing something is usually the best way of keeping it from holding you back in the long run. It's my reminder to live every day to the fullest and as if it's my last. To do the things that bring me joy because it can all be over in a heartbeat. It's been one year to the day that I got that picture. I've stayed true to that belief and its been a pretty amazing year to say the least.

This is something I shot last Christmas with my friends Jeremy, Max, Brian and Lara. The original cut of it was much truer to my style of videos. This version was stylized to be pitched to networks as a portion of a TV show. I can’t give you a detailed description of the format of the show because it’s currently making the rounds. This video was meant to show how a particular element of the show would look. Hence the interviews, titles and desaturation. I didn’t really have time to re-cut it the way I envisioned it. X-mas is right around the corner, so you’ll have to take it as it is. Kind of cheesy.

For the most part I'm not a very well liked person. My antics are typically looked down upon and my pranks frowned on. I rarely try to explain myself because it would defeat the purpose of why I did it. It would take a very open mind to recognize the value of my thought process. There is no simple explanation for what I do. No one reason, no single out come. Not everyone always wins and there are almost always those left wondering what the fuck just happened. I do it because I don't believe you can put a price on the feeling it brings to those who do get it. The one's who don't are typically the individuals that end up proving my point for me.

For the first time ever, I'm going to attempt to explain myself before it even becomes apparent what I've done or on how big of a scale I've done it. It's big, global in fact. The series of events leading up to what is sure to be my most fantastic prank have been in motion for more than 10 years. The odds are very high that several corporations and individuals will sue me, I will definitely receive threats and possibly death threats. The likelihood of me getting away with zero repercussions is zero, the likelihood of me actually succeeding are definite. With what is going on in the world today, I feel the time is right to finally pull the trigger on what many will see as childish, few will see the genius in and some will be flat out livid about. So I would like to take this opportunity to ask that you take a little bit of your time to understand where I'm coming from. What you're about to read is part one of what is most likely to be a three parter. Like I said before, the gears have been in motion for 10 plus years, I must have written this about five years ago. It's as good a place to start as any. It all starts with an idea.

In my early teens I became interested in the science of memetics, the study of how ideas grow, replicate, mutate, compete, or become extinct. By definition a meme is an idea, it comes from the greek root word for memory. A meme is a replicating information pattern that uses minds to get itself copied into other minds. Richard Dawkins puts it best in his book "The Selfish Gene":

"Examples of memes are tunes, ideas, catch-phrases, clothes fashions, ways of making pots or of building arches. Just as genes propagate themselves in the gene pool by leading from body to body via sperm or eggs, so memes propagate themselves in the meme pool by leaping from brain to brain via a process, which in the broad sense can be called imitation. If a scientist hears, or reads about, a good idea, he passes it on to his colleagues and students. He mentions it in his articles and his lectures. If the idea catches on, it can be said to propagate itself, spreading from brain to brain."

What I found interesting about memetics is how memes are treated like infections and depending on what the meme is, who the people are and what the strong memes in society are, the dynamics become very much like survival of the fittest. Memes compete when they become popular, such as in politics when to opposing views come into play. Memes flourish when cut off from the bulk of society, but then have devastating results when reintroduced in a mutated form. Like in the extreme case of Heaven's Gate. Much like an infection, a meme can lay dormant, waiting for the immune system of society to take a hit. Then it strikes. Much like Marxism-Leninism, the Salem witch trials or the 9-11 meme, society become more susceptible to an idea when society has taken a devastating blow. And in most cases these memes will emit toxins to suppress other memes that might be the antibody. You see this in battle between such memes as Creationism and Darwinism. Rarely does the validity of the meme control the strength, but rather the health of society that embraces.

There are a couple factors that determine how susceptible a person is to infection from misguided memes. Intelligence and experience play a large part in being able to avoid unwanted memes. Children are more likely to be influenced by a meme, whereas an adult that has had experience with these memes are more likely to develop a skepticism of future memes and is in turn less likely to go into it blindfolded. A strongly developed sense of humor is also usually found in people who have high resistance to memes. Skepticism and iron usually play a big part when gauging a person's sense of humor.

In Vietnam, POWs were put through brainwashing procedures. In some cases it worked and others it didn't. The only consistent trait for the POWs that cracked under the pressure was their vulnerability to adhering to the traditional memes of their society. If they were highly religious, and bought in to the pro America propaganda, they were more likely to crack. The men who were less vulnerable were typically drafted into the army and in turn were less likely to believe in the memes of why they were fighting this war. I found this very interesting. I would have thought it the opposite. The point of this being that a mind that can process what is right and what is wrong without influence or bias is less likely to crack when it comes time to question one's beliefs.

It's not enough to just question authority. Sometimes introducing a little chaos is exactly what's needed to make people question one's own beliefs. I've tested this theory on a small scale several times over the past couple years. I've found that rarely does the change come from either end of the spectrum of ideology, but rather those who are in the middle. If you can get someone to look at something they find offensive and then laugh at it, people tend to open up their mind and question themselves. My first real endeavor into testing this theory was when I was in high school and wrote an offensive underground newspaper called the Occasional Blow Job. After my expulsion and three year restraining order had passed, I visited the school to find that the teachers that had previous labeled me the devils spawn now embraced me like I was some sort of deity. After processing how it made them feel, they were able to laugh at the absurdity of how offended they were and question why in fact they were offended in the first place. Below you will find links to the examples I'm about reference.

Previously I had faked a CNN website to say Paris Hilton was stabbed in jail, the outpour was amazing. There were those that saw the humor in it and there were those who wanted my head on a platter. I read the fan mail and I read the hate mail, but what got to me were the people who thought it was real and laughed anyways. The people who were able take that fleeting moment of guilt at laughing at someone else's death and then embrace it when realizing that it wasn't real, came away from it with a new sense of skepticism. They are the people in the middle. To me they are the people who if given the opportunity will question their moral compass. In doing so question everything they've come to think is true because that's what they were told is true.

I also put out the Bill O'Reilly segment where he is infuriated that omeletto.com is putting highly offensive ads out, the same reaction as the Paris Hilton stabbing came about. Some people were offended and some people thought that was exactly what should be allowed. Once again is was the people in the middle that came out of it with a newfound perspective on freedom of speech. Very few actually knew that I faked the entire thing. By striking a cord with humor you're able to desensitize a person's belief. Loosen them up just enough to make them think for themselves.

Lickmycards.com is another example of desensitizing and breaking down people's ideologies in order for them to question what in fact it is that makes them who they are. Everyday more and more people visit the site and embrace the idea of hurting someone else's feelings just because they can. They don't realize they're doing my dirty work for me, but they are. They're casting a vote and spreading the word that life is too short to believe that something is immoral just because someone else says so. The reaction to lickmycards has been overwhelmingly positive and brings me an immeasurable amount of joy. Every morning I check the stats from the previous day and every day I'm amazed at the growth. I keep thinking that it's going to level off and it doesn't. Every day thousands of people send their friends and co-works ecards that even I deem to be inappropriate.

Earlier this year I had a neighbor where I work call the cops on me because I reprimanded her for harassing my co-workers for parking on the street and then calling our office threatening to pour turpentine on their cars. She said I threatened her when really all I did was point out that I knew where she lived, I had her phone number, we know what car she drives, she has a kid and does she really want to shit where she eats. I didn't actually threaten her, I thought it was pretty sly. After a three-month cool off period, myself and a network of believers took it upon ourselves to enact revenge that seemed fitting and met the meme criteria. Thirty-five individuals in twenty-five different states each wrote 100+ notes and put them on the windshields of cars in parking lots. The notes read "Sorry I dinged your car, didn't see it when I was backing up. Call me and I'll give you my insurance info" along with her name and phone number. The meme being that I needed to get even. Or that maybe the people who called her were informed that it was a prank and she's been fielding thousands of these calls over the last couple weeks. I'm sure some of them saw the humor in it.


Occasional Blow Job:
http://www.laweekly.com/2000-05-18/news/speech-wild-and-free/

Paris Hilton Article:
http://www.mycoalproductions.com/cnn.html

Bill O'Reilly Clip:
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/194041/

One of my pet projects is an ecard website called lickmycards.com. I use it as an outlet for my destructive behavior. When I'm upset about something fucked up, I need something even more fucked up to make me laugh. That where I usually come up with the cards that eventually go up. Every couple weeks I use these cards as my release. One of which was this cards:



The cards on this site are fucked up and really have no place in society, but so do most of the things I think and do. I modify my behavior in the real world to meet the status quo. It's still not enough to get by unnoticed. I really have nothing more invested in this site other than peace of mind that I'm doing the world a disservice. To get that validation I go online to check the sites stats and see the damage I've done to the world. The following is a section of those stats and I'll explain what they mean:



These stats show that there was a surge on September 10th. I did a little investigation to see where the traffic came from. Sure enough it was from people sending out the 9/11 card. Tens of thousands of people sent out this card and mainly this card. I'm kind of disgusted with America. It's one thing for me to have that original thought, it's another people to laugh about it and send it around. I've spent a lot of time focusing on the overwhelming likelihood that people like me don't see eye to eye with the majority. I can't help but find it kind of upsetting that it's something slightly offensive to me that gets everyone's attention. It could be that they find it funny, it could be that they find it shocking or maybe they thinks it means something nice. I don't even know what it means. I just find it odd.

Extreme Homeless Makeover was my attempt at redemption for all the malfeasances I've been party to and all the people who's lives I've effected in the process. There are a lot of them. More than I can keep track of or even remember. It seemed ludicrous that a single act of good will towards a complete stranger could ever equal forgiveness for an entire lifetime of abusing the gifts that I have been bestowed. We went out and shot the entire process of taking a homeless meth addict off the streets and turning his life around. A haircut, a new wardrobe, a doctored up resume, a place to live for a month, a stint in county jail to get him off the drugs that were hindering him from living his life. These were a few of the things we did to get me that redemption. At first I just thought it was funny. The haircut involved 5 years of dreadlocks and a kid's hair saloon called the Yellow Balloon. Everywhere we took him he wore a "hello my name is" sticker that read, "Grouch." The job interviews involved high profile law firm positions that he had no business applying for. According to his resume he not only had a law degree, but also had a bachelors in rock throwing. With each cheap laugh I slowly began to realize my attempt at redemption was only digging myself further in the hole. By the end of shooting Extreme Homeless Makeover I was disgusted with myself. Our grouch's name was Neff Talim. After all was said and done, I got Neff a real job working in production as a PA and camera assist. The footage from Extreme Homeless Makeover sits in a beacon box along with another 150 tapes that are borderline criminal actions on my part. None of these tapes have ever been digitized into my editing system, nor will they ever.

I have spent the previous two years moving up in a production company that recognizes and gives nourishment to my insanity. They applauded my faking Paris Hilton's stabbing while she was in jail. The Bill O'Rielly piece on our fake billboards that read such phrases as, "Santa has aids. Just kidding, he's not even real" were praised as pure genius. The multiple lawsuits that have arisen from my antics have been over looked time and time again. "It's not everyday that PBS sues someone for copyright infringement." they tell me. They even let me register the domain www.masturbatingwhilecrying.com because I thought it was funny. To boot, I also registered www.cryingwhilemasturbating.com just to make sure I didn't get ripped off. These are just some of the other websites I own as a result of ideas I have pushed in the last couple years:

www.omeletto.com
www.lickmycards.com
www.yellingatkids.com
www.elevatorguy.com
www.eatpavement.com
www.mycoalproductions.com
www.hotgirlsdirtyjokes.com
www.shitacrossamerica.com
www.thebitchwhisper.com
www.youllruetheday.com
www.stallywood.com

If you think the names are bad, the premises would appall you. Due to upcoming events, most of these sites have been taken down for image purposes. Eventually I might have to dismantle my myspace as well.

A couple months back one of the owners of the production company pulled me aside after I told him that I needed to change. It had nothing to do with the company or anyone that worked there. They have been nothing, but great to me. They treated me like family and gave me a whole different set of rules to abide by that not many were so lucky to have. I had no set hours, no defined job and a bunch of co-workers that couldn't grasp what it was I actually did. I was an editor, a motion graphics designer, a cameraman, a producer, a production coordinator, a techy and a plethora of other titles as projects required. The reason a change was in order was that I needed to grow up. As long as I was surrounded by the impressions that I had left on people, I would never be able to take the next step. I never got credit for the presentations I helped put together that would eventually lead to my co-workers having a job on the show it would become. Instead I was the kid that had three computers running at any given time. Nobody would ever hear about the tens of thousands of dollars that I saved the company because I designed and streamlined our casting department. Instead I was the kid that made the highly offensive www.lickmycards.com website. He told me that at 40 years old he still feels like he hasn't really grown up. You never really do. There will always be those moments in life where self-realization goes out the window and the people around you will determine how you think about yourself. Most of the time I feel like a scumbag on so many different levels. In the course of putting together presentations, I've been to a double homicide crime scene fresh with the spilled blood of someone's kid, a porn set that was actively in session and I've had a mobster threaten my life. I can't help but question if the reason I'm put on these projects is my questionable morals. I told him I needed to start taking this job seriously and wanted the chance to prove myself. He told me if I started showing up before 1pm that I would be given that chance. Over the next couple months I was given the opportunity. Along with doing the same old development, I pitched a couple show ideas. Extreme Homeless Makeover was one of them. The response was negative. Nobody cares about homeless people. Homeless people are homeless for a reason. Make it more relatable. Make the viewers care. Make it funny. I watched my friend Leslie go through some horrific shit as she tried to get her license back and get her life back on track. That when I realized this was where the real drama was. People who have something to lose. People who are good for the most part and just don't have the money to make these things go away. I've spent the last couple months developing this. I've interviewed Life Coaches, Lawyers, Image Consultants, Financial Consultants and Career Counselors. Hoping and looking for an answer. I've lost friends and distanced co-workers in my pursuit of making this happen. In the end I've discovered a lot about myself. Of all the therapists and psychiatrists I've seen, none of them have left me with the sense of humanity that I've gotten out of reading some of the applications I've received. A minister that is in debt to IRS for $100,000 because his church's tax exemption was taken away when he expressed his political views. The college student that works 50-hour weeks because his parents ruined his credit and now he can't get student loans. The musician that can't support his family because he's pursuing his dream. The widow that was taken for millions and left $75.000 in debt because she fell in love with a con man. The countless people that have legal and debt problems and feel that it's hopeless. There's usually a quick fix.

This is my mark, this is my redemption. Spread the good word.

One of the shows I'm currently producing is a reality series called "Daddy's Girls". It's about of group of five girlfriends, two of which are about to hit it big in Hollywood, and the turmoil that this causes within the group. Will Hollywood tear them apart or will their friendships withstand the tests ahead of them? Blah, Blah, Blah. One of the girls from the show is going to be on Los Angeles' 97.1 Talk radio today from 3-4pm. They'll be taking calls and she'll be giving relationship advice. The radio show is called "Oh Brother" and they'll have a video feed live from the beach house they're broadcasting from. Myself and two camera guys will probably end up in feed, so check it out and feel free to call in.

You can view the feed here:
http://www.971freefm.com/pages/2116435.php





Some photos from earlier shoots with the gals:

My dad lacks any knowledge of computers what so ever. He regularly enlists my services when he can't figure something out. I usually use these opportunities to get him to jump through hoops that have nothing to do with the problem at hand. My mom use to be his goto person, but she couldn't deal with him anymore. One time he complained that the dish washer wasn't working, so she insisted he just had to reinstall the software. She gave him a blank CD and sent him on his way. At the end of the day I asked him how it went and he said it worked great. I asked him to walk me through what he did in case I ran into the same problem. He took me over to the dishwasher and showed me where he put in the "installer CD." It was a vent on the front of the dishwasher. I asked him where the eject button was and his response was "Your mom wouldn't tell me."

I walked into a hotel suite at the Bellagio in Vegas where nine mafia members and a producer were talking about cement pours. These were construction sites where they would hide bodies in the soon to be poured cement. They sat me down and the "Don" started questioning me. This was odd because the people I'm use to working with are usually the interviewees. One of them sat next to the window playing with his Zippo lighter. The only reason I was allowed to be there was because of my criminal record and my questionable morals. He asked me about my stance on the government. I told him I lacked the ability to concern myself with the results of my actions and apparently that's what the government was for. He asked me how exactly I got a counterfeiting wrap on my record and never did jail time for it. I told him I was 16 and I claimed it was a school project. He asked me if I ever killed a guy. Not that I know of. He asked me if I needed cheap gas because each of their trunks were filled with gallons upon gallons of "free" gas. I asked him how they got free gas. He told me it was none of my concern. Once the formalities were done with, we got down to business. We turned on the tape recorder. A camera was out of the question. And so the 5-hour process of interviewing these mobsters began. They explained to me that the world was changing; organized crime wasn't what it used to be. Everyone was turning rat. The money wasn't worth the risk. They wanted out and thought making a TV show out of it was their best chance of not suffering the repercussions that would surely happen if they did it in the privacy of the family. They told me things that could put them away for life. Arson, murder, racketeering and other crimes that I had no business knowing. They were so straightforward that if I were there by myself I would have surely thought I wasn't leaving the room. My producer buddy Danny was there and seemed unnaturally excited about the whole situation. It was explained in detail what would happen if this info was ever used against them. We would disappear. This was the second show pitch that the Jay and Tony Show put me in charge of. The end product would eventually get picked up by TNT. I was offered a producing position on the show. I turned it down on account that they scared the hell out of me. Even Danny, the creator of the show handed it off to the network because he heard the things I did in that room.

Unmarried to the Mob
..